History of Abuse
by Alliegirl
Summary: “Logan,” she whispered in a comforting tone he hadn’t heard in years, hadn’t heard from her ever. “How did you get this scar?”
1. Chapter 1

_**History of Abuse**_  
_**By: **__Alliegirl_  
_**Chapter One: **__Scars   
__**Rating:**__ R_

_**Couples:**__ LoVe, cause nothing else makes sense._

_**Summary: **_"Logan," she whispered in a comforting tone he hadn't heard in years, hadn't heard from her ever. "How did you get this scar?"

_**Warning:**__ This story will include rather descriptive child abuse. If you can't handle it I suggest you don't read past the first chapter._

_**Disclaimer:**__ I own nothing, but if Rob and co. ever decide to sell I would gladly take Logan._

**A/N** I appreciate advice on how to improve, or being corrected when I've gotten facts or words mixed up. However, if all you have to say is a rude and/or degrading comment I prefer you keep it to yourself

It started out as a gentle caress, a whisper across his skin, almost tickling the length of his back. As time went on her touch became more firm, more certain but still gentle, almost soothing. Logan kept his eyes closed and his breathing at a steady rhythm, mock sleeping.

He'd been keeping up the charade for the past several nights, since the first time she'd reached over and began her soft exploration of his back. When he'd first awoken to her probing touch he hadn't known how to respond, he still didn't know. It wasn't the first time a girl, woman had seen his scars, but her touch was so much different from his lovers of the past, so full of curiosity, sympathy, understanding, and love?

With Lilly his scars had been a turn on. She'd loved that he was so damaged. She had loved the anger and passion they inspired. Lilly hadn't been one for –in her mind- useless expressions such as sympathy and compassion, and he'd long past stopped looking for any. He would show up at her door angry, tense, in pain, and looking for a release, and she would lead the way to her room, lips curving in that devious and seductive smile of hers. They would spend the next few hours tangled together in her bed, Lilly running her hands down his back as he pounded into her, she had loved the way he would flinch when her nails caught in a fresh wound, she had relished the feeling of raking her nails down his back, hoping to leave behind a few scars of her own.

Hannah was barely worth mentioning, besides she had barely had a chance to see him sans his shirt before her father was there ripping her from his grasp and shipping her away. The only scar she had been previewed to was one on his waist, which she had caught a glimpse of during one of their "tickle fights," she had asked him how he'd gotten it, her eyebrows scrunched as she ran a finger along puckered line. He had proceeded to drag her hand away and distract her with a light kiss to her knuckles and some bull shit story about falling off his surf board and his harrowing escape from death, which she had bought hook line and sinker.

Kendall had seen every inch of him, from every angle. And the one time he had seen the tiniest spark of curiosity began to form he had forced her down onto the bed and pinned her hands over her head, driving all thoughts but those about his tongue and what it was doing from her head. He hadn't wanted to go there with her, not even on the superficial level their conversation would have been. Kendall was as much a distraction for him, as he was for her. He didn't want to know anything about her and he certainly didn't want her knowing anything about him. It was sex, not love, not even like, just good-old-sweaty-no-strings-attached sex.

There had been a few others, but they either hadn't been in a position to notice or hadn't cared to. Nothing in any of his past relationships had prepared him for Veronica. He knew the questions would be coming; it was a part of who she was. She asked questions, she solved the mystery, and each of his scars were a small mystery waiting to be solved. Veronica knew the who, but the where, the why, and the how were all answers waiting for her to fish out.

Logan tried and failed to suppress a shiver as Veronica drew a dainty red tipped finger up his back, across his shoulders and then down his arm, before coming to rest in the space between his thumb and pointer finger. He remained still as she traced the faded diagonal scar that lay there, up and down. He knew the question was coming, and he wasn't surprised when a second later she took a deep breath and asked what had been on her mind for the past few nights.

"Logan," she whispered in a comforting tone he hadn't heard in years, hadn't heard from her ever. "How did you get this scar?"


	2. Chapter 2

A/N For disclaimer and all that jazz see chapter one.

Immediately following Veronica's request for information the air around them buzzed with nervous energy. Veronica was uncertain as to how her request for information would be received. She knew it was a sensitive subject, every subject involving the late not at all great Aaron Echolls was, but this one was especially sensitive. Still, knowing that did nothing to dampen her curiosity. Curiosity was in her nature, finding out the answers to questions was almost as essential to her life as breathing.

However it wasn't just about getting answers. Logan was her boyfriend and she loved him, the fact that she was still unable to say the words aloud was irrelevant, she loved him all the same, and she truly did want them to be able to get to a place where they could be intimate. She wanted them to be able to talk, really talk about their scars both physical and emotional.

Logan's nervousness stemmed from his worry over how his tale would be received. He had never had a good experience when it came to revealing the truth about what kind of man his father really was. In the past his confessions had been met with either disbelief, betrayal, or the loss of the person from his life, and always a run in with an enraged Aaron. Eventually he'd learned to keep the truth to himself. Nothing good ever came from revealing the truth.

Taking a deep breath and expelling it rather forcefully Logan rolled onto his back. He lay there silently for a few moments, trying to decide the best way to tell her, how much to tell her. He was so lost in thought he failed to notice Veronica's hand reach out and sneak across his chest. It wasn't until she slowly linked their hands that he noticed she'd moved at all.

"You don't have to tell me Logan, if you don't want to."

A small smile played across his face at the thought of how much it must have pained her to say that. "You didn't strain anything did you?"

"Shut up," Veronica replied lightly, smiling as he pulled her up to lay across his chest. "In all seriousness though, I don't want you to feel forced. I mean I want to know, but only if you want to tell me."

Logan rested his chin on the top of her head, inhaling the sweet citrus of her shampoo. It would be nice to tell someone knowing that he would be believed and not screwed over in the end. On the other hand he didn't want her opinion of him to change. He didn't want her to think him weak or pathetic. He didn't want to set her wondering if or when genetics would win out in him and he would turn into his father. It was a thought he struggled with every day, he couldn't handle it if she did as well.

"Logan?" Veronica questioned, propping herself up on his chest before placing a kiss on his chin.

"I was nine," Logan said quickly, practically forcing the words from his mouth. "A few days before Aaron had lost out on this part he wanted, so I was trying to stay out of his way. I managed to do it about two days."

"And on the third day?"

"Parent teacher conference," Logan ran his fingers through her hair, twirling the silky strands around his fingers. "He didn't like what he heard."

888888888888

March 3, 1997

The sound of the front door sliding open had Logan halting in his tracks, plate of food balanced precariously on his hand, bag of chips clutched in the other. He stood frozen in the kitchen, listening as the door was shut with a soft click that sent his heart pounding hard and fast in his chest. Over the years Logan had learned his fathers tells, committed them to memory. He had them all down to an exact science. He could tell just by the way Aaron opened a door what was in store for him.

When he was angry the doors would be thrown open, crashing against the wall with such force that it could be heard through out the house. Then he would slam them shut with the same force, once so hard he had shattered a window. Those times were usually followed with an order for Logan to get a belt and meet him in his office. Afterward he would lay still on the floor long after Aaron had left, waiting for the sharp stinging to turn into a dull throb before he dragged himself to his room.

When Aaron was in a good mood the doors would again be thrown wide open, except it would be his loud cheery voice that echoed through the house rather then the bang of the door. Logan hated those times. They always made him anxious, wondering how long Aaron's good mood would last. He would spend that time questioning every move he made, double & triple checking his every decision, desperate not to do anything to set Aaron off, desperate not to give him that one reason he needed. Despite his best efforts he always eventually slipped up, and it was actually almost a relief. Once he received his beating he could stop worry about when it was coming, and in his opinion that was a good thing. The beatings he could handle, but never knowing when they were coming was almost unbearable.

Then there were days like this one, when Aaron was livid. When all the frustration of the past week or month reached a boiling point. These were the days Logan had come to fear the most. It was like navigating a mine field, everything looked calm and peaceful but one false step and it was over. Days like these the door would slide open with barely a sound and shut with a soft click. Then the only sound echoing through the house would be the strangely intimidating click of shoes on expensive tile.

For the briefest moment Logan considered running and hiding, but quickly dismissed it as a foolish notion. He would eventually be found and the punishment for that little stunt would be worse then if he had just stayed and taken whatever Aaron planned to dish out. Logan shivered as memories of being locked in the closet for hours on end flashed through his mind. He'd learned his lesson the last time. So he stayed put in a tense silence.

"I had an interesting conversation with you teacher this afternoon," Aaron stated, casually leaning in the kitchen door way, arms crossed.

At the sound of his father's voice Logan jumped violently, causing the plate in his hand to tilt and slide from his grasp. He dropped the bag of chips and made a desperate grab for the plate but missed. The plate crashed to the floor and shattered, the shards mixing with the chips. A second after the plate fell Logan was on his hands and knees hurriedly trying to clean up the mess.

"Leave it," Aaron commanded, pushing himself away from the door way and moving further into the room.

When Logan failed to heed his order Aaron stormed over to where his son knelt and smacked the broken pieces of porcelain from his hand, sending them flying in different directions and Logan jumping backwards, slamming his head against the cupboard.

"I said leave it!" Aaron shouted, eyes blazing.

Logan remained crouched against the cupboard, heart racing, hand's trembling. He didn't dare move a muscle. He watched silently as the wild rage in Aaron's eyes worked back down to a simmer.

"Get up," Aaron ordered calmly, pulling himself up to his full height.

Logan quickly scrambled to his feet but kept his back pressed to the cupboard, wanting as much distance between him and his father as possible.

"I had an interesting conversation with your teacher this afternoon," Aaron repeated.

Logan remained silent, eyes locked on the floor.

"It seems my son is having trouble focusing in class. It seems he is disrupting the learning environment. Would you care to address these allegations?"

When it became clear that Logan wasn't going to respond Aaron moved forward, crowding Logan, forcing him further into the cupboard behind him.

"I want an explanation Logan," Aaron said, eerily calm.

Logan nervously pulled at his sleeves, pulling them down over his hands as he tried to come up with an acceptable answer. "I uh….I…"

"You uh?" Aaron questioned mockingly. "I had to take two hours out of my day to meet with your teacher, who had nothing good to report. I expect a better explanation then "I uh."

Logan's mind was racing as fast as his heart as he tried to come up with an acceptable answer. His mind was blank; he could do nothing but pull nervously at his sleeves.

"Nothing? You have no explanation."

Logan licked his lips and pulled at his sleeves, fighting the urge to run.

"Look at me," Aaron ordered. "Look at me!"

Logan quickly jerked his head up, his gaze locking with Aaron's as he tried to control his trembling.

"You're in school what? 6 hours a day? Are you telling me that you can manage to behave for six hours?"

"No, I –"

Aaron cut in, "Do you just like causing trouble, or are you just too damn stupid to focus?"

When Logan didn't respond Aaron moved even closer, his tone low and tense. "Well, which is it? Are you a trouble maker or are you better fit for special Ed?"

Logan's eyes filled with tears, but he didn't dare let them fall. His mind raced to come up with the answer his father wanted, the answer that would bring the least amount anger, the least amount of pain.

"I'm…I just," Logan stumbled over his answer, pulling at his sleeves.

"I'm waiting Logan."

Logan drew a shuddering breath before he continued in a whisper, "I'm stupid."

Aaron eased back, gazing drifting off to the window. "You're stupid," he said softly, as though mulling over the response.

Logan could see the tightening of his muscles, the tick of his jaw. His gaze shot between Aaron and the kitchen door, the urge to run overcoming him. Just as he shifted his weight in preparation Aaron's arm shot out, slamming into the fridge, effectively blocking Logan escape. Logan quickly jumped back, knocking his elbow into the counter, he cried out as sharp pain shot up his arm.

"Stupid," Aaron said tightly, his eyes narrowed in anger. "You're telling me my son is stupid. That I have stupid children."

"No," Logan cried desperately, his heart pounding as if he'd just run a marathon, pounding so hard it hurt.

"So, you're not stupid?"

Logan shook his head, cradling his arm close to his body.

"That's right," Aaron stated. "You're not stupid. You're a liar."

Logan's gaze dropped to the floor.

"You know what I hate Logan? People, who don't take responsibility for their actions, so I'm going to ask you again, are you a trouble maker or just stupid."

"I'm a trouble maker," Logan responded immediately, as a tear ran down his cheek.

"What's that? I didn't hear you," Aaron said, moving in, placing a hand behind Logan's neck.

"I'm a trouble maker," Logan repeated.

"That's what I thought," Aaron's grip tightened on Logan's neck.

Logan reflexively tried to pull away from the restrictive hold. He immediately realized his mistake, his gaze jerking up to meet Aaron's. He watched in growing fear as Aaron's eyes narrowed in time with the further tightening of his arm on Logan's neck. A second later Aaron threw him to the floor.

Logan cried out sharply as his knees slammed into the tile floor, his hands pressing into the broken pieces of plate as he caught himself. He barely had time to think before Aaron had him by the scruff again, forcing him to stay down.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" Aaron demanded.

When Logan failed to give a timely response Aaron forced him down so he was lying flat on the floor. His hand was trapped under his body, and a rather sharp piece of the plate was digging into his hand. Finally the tears that Logan had been trying to keep at bay broke free and he began to sob and plead with his father.

Aaron ignored Logan's please as he kept Logan pressed firmly to the floor. He continued talking, but Logan could no longer make out the words over his sobs and the pounding of his heart. Eventually Aaron released his grip on Logan and got to his feet, Logan however remained on the floor, not daring to move a muscle.

"I want you to clean up this mess and then go to your room. You're not to leave the room for any reason," Aaron stated firmly. "And Logan, the next time you're in class I want you to remember that everything you do is a reflection on me, on this family. I will not have people thinking I don't have things under control." With that said Aaron walked out of the room, not sparing a backwards glance.

Once Logan was sure Aaron was gone he pushed himself up to his knees. He drew a shuddering breath, trying to get himself under control. When the throbbing in his hand became too much to ignore he lifted his hand and saw that it was cut and bleeding heavily. He considered getting a bandage for it, but thought better of it. Instead he wrapped it up in the bottom of his shirt and set to cleaning up the mess, tremors running through his body every so often.

A/N Every time you don't leave a review Logan cries. You guys don't want Logan to cry do you? lol


	3. Chapter 3

A/N Here's the next chapter; it's pretty much semi fluffy filler. I'm not quit sure about it so be sure and tell me what you think. As always, constructive criticism is welcome, degrading comments are not. Thanks.

Long minutes past after Logan finished his story, long minutes filled with a silence that neither one of them seemed willing to break. Veronica had never thought of silence as a tangible entity but, as she lay pressed against Logan, her head pillowed on his chest she could swear she felt the solid weight of it pressing into her, holding her down. She was desperate for some way to end the quiet, but was at a loss as to what she should say, would say. What the hell did one say in a situation like this?

Maybe it had been as mistake to ask Logan to confide in her. She wasn't the kind of girl who could give him what he needed. She was a woman of action, not words. If she saw a problem she fixed it. If someone had been wronged she made sure the guilty paid. Except in this case the guilty was dead, and with him all hope of retribution, justice. She couldn't make this right and it frustrated the hell out of her, made her angrier then she had been in a long time. Aaron Echolls would never pay for a single mark he'd left on his son. It wasn't right, fair; then again they lived in Neptune, since when was anything fair?

Veronica swallowed past the lump in her throat and blinked back the tears welling up in her eyes, before glancing down at his hand, still clasped firmly in her own. She lightly ran her thumb over the faded scar. There'd been a reason she started with that particular scar. It was the smallest one on him; she'd foolishly assumed it would be the least traumatizing story. Cigarette burns and broken noses, wasn't that what Trina had said? Judging by the scars that littered his body she doubted that was the worst of it. She had wanted to start off slow, ease them both into it, start off in the shallow end of the murky pool, but after the story she knew there wasn't going to be any shallow end, just one deep fucked up pool. She wasn't entirely sure she was ready for it.

"Veronica?" Logan's voice finally broke the silence, sounding strained, nervous.

Fighting back a fresh wave of tears Veronica pulled his hand up to her lips and laid a gentle kiss over his scar, before she resumed tracing it with her thumb. "You didn't deserve that Logan. You didn't deserve any of it."

Logan didn't respond, just released a shaky breath and pulled her close, resting his chin on the top of her head. Once again they lapsed into silence, though this one not nearly as tense as the first. Veronica lay still as Logan stroked her hair, her back, her arms, slowly easing the tension from her body.

"Can I ask you something?" Logan said after a few minutes, stroking her forearm.

Veronica tensed back up immediately, but forced herself to relax. This was what she wanted. She wanted them to be able to talk, openly, honestly, of course that was easier said then done, but after what he had told her there was no way she could deny him, so she ignored her gut instinct which was telling her to run, to protect her secrets, herself, her heart.

"Go ahead."

Logan lightly tapped her arm with his pointer finger. "How did you get this scar?"

Veronica released a sound caught between a laugh and a sigh. "You're kidding?"

"Nope," Logan replied.

Sitting up Veronica met Logan's gaze. She searched his eyes, trying to figure out where he was going with that question. He raised his eyebrows mockingly at her, fixing his face with an expression that would usually inspire a laugh, but he couldn't hide sadness in his eyes, not entirely. He was trying to ease the tension, make her feel more comfortable, give her an out, and she loved him for it. Ignoring the tears pooling in her eyes Veronica leaned down and placed a kiss on his lips.

"The scar?" Logan questioned when she pulled back.

"First grade," Veronica replied, blinking back her tears and clearing her throat. "Daniel Metcalfe. He wanted to use my sparkle crayons and I said no."

"So, what you're saying is you never knew how to share."

Veronica rolled her eyes. "He had a reputation. He was a crayon eater. Anyway, when I said no he got mad and cut me with a pair of scissors."

"Jesus," Logan cringed.

"It's okay," Veronica assured him, lying down to face him, tucking some stray hair behind her ear. "In the fourth grade, at recess he pinched my butt while I was on the monkey bars. I chased him across the play ground, cornered him by the fences and kneed him in the balls."

Logan released a bark of laughter. "That's my girl."

Veronica joined in his laughter, but she was already preparing herself to ask about another scar, to hear his heartbreaking answer.


	4. Chapter 4

**Title:** History of Abuse  
_**Author: **Alliegirl  
**Characters:** Logan, Veronica, Aaron, with mentions of others  
**Rating:** R  
**Spoilers:** All seasons  
**Summary: **_"Logan," she whispered in a comforting tone he hadn't heard in years, hadn't heard from her ever. "How did you get this scar?"  
_**Warning:** This story will include rather descriptive child abuse. If you can't handle it I suggest you don't read past the first chapter._  
_**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but if Rob and co. ever decide to sell I would gladly take Logan & Weevil._

A/N: Read and please do review. Oh, and feel free to point out any errors. I do like correcting my mistakes.

Moving to prop her head up on her hand Veronica regarded Logan thoughtfully. For the past half hour they had been playing a round of twenty questions. It was an unspoken rule that all the questions be strictly of the fluffy variety. Although the rule was more for her benefit than Logan's.

While Logan somehow seemed lighted after reveling his most painful and long kept secret, Veronica couldn't decide if she wanted to throw up or just put her fist through a wall-unfortunately Aaron Echolls face wasn't available- but she was determined to hear everything, not out of morbid curiosity but of a desire to help him bear his burden. He'd been there for her after she'd accused and later absolved him of responsibility for her rape, been patient and never pushed or made her feel guilty for not being ready to take that next step in their relationship. And he had been there again after the fall out with Cassidy, a solid and protective presence, there when she needed him.

It was her turn to be there for him, to let him tell his story and know without a doubt that there would be no disbelief or judgment, know that his secret would be safe with her. She could help him bear his emotional load, she could handle it –she hoped. She just needed a few more minutes to adjust to the load.

"What is your favorite thing to eat?" Veronica asked, lightly tracing patterns on Logan tanned shoulder.

A lecherous grin was his only answer. The look he gave her cause a deep blush to light his face and she shoved his shoulder.

"Be serious."

"I am," Logan smirked.

"Fine," Veronica gave in, rolling her eyes. "What is your least favorite thing to eat?"

Immediately the air changed and Veronica knew she'd managed to find yet another bad memory from the wide array of dark moments Aaron had left his son with. She briefly thought about not asking, diverting the conversation back to their more light hearted questions, but she decided against it. Hard as it was on her to hear she wanted to know, and she knew it was harder on him. She had to hear about it but he'd actually lived it. So, rather than pull back Veronica forged ahead.

"Logan?" she gently pushed.

"Pears," Logan sighed, his tone letting her know there was a story there. "Just the smell of 'em makes me sick."

"What happened?" Veronica encouraged.

After a brief moment of silence Logan cleared his throat and began his story. Veronica tried to keep her face neutral but she was sure some of the horror and shock she felt showed. She couldn't help it. She'd known Aaron Echolls had been a sick fuck, he'd slept with and killed Lilly after all, but still, it was hard to imagine anyone being so violent, cold, uncaring with their own child. Hmmm, maybe she wasn't as jaded as she liked to think. To her "father" meant comfort, safety, warmth, laughter, and all other things good. No matter what hell she'd been going through in her life her dad had been there, her touch stone, her rock, the one man she could always count on. She felt for Logan, not pity, never pity, but sorrow. He should have had a good father, someone he could have felt safe with.

Leaning forward Veronica laid a gentle kiss on his freckled shoulder before cupping his cheek and turning his face towards her for a slow kiss. She knew she couldn't take his pain away but she could offer comfort.

Pulling away Veronica sadly looked into his eyes. "Do you have any good memories of him?"

Logan laughed, sounding anything but amused. "Few and far between. And none of that matters, not when he..."

"We don't have to talk about this, him, what he did to you," Veronica assured him.

"I don't mind Veronica." After a long thoughtful pause he continued. "It's actually nice to be believed for once."

"You sure?"

"Ask," Logan demanded.

"What?"

Logan gestured to where her hand rested on his abdomen, her fingers lightly and unconsciously running over an oddly shaped scar. It reminded her of one she had on her elbow. She'd gotten it from falling off her bike when she was six. She had hit the pavement and slide across the ground, the gravel and rock scraping away at her tender flesh.

Veronica was almost afraid to hear his response. "How?"

88888888

June 6th 1998

"Quedate quieto," Pearla, the Echolls' aging housekeeper admonished as she attempted to tighten the strap on a figiting Logan's goggles.

Logan threw his hands up, dramatically freezing in place, earning an eye roll for his trouble.

"Brat," Pearla smiled. "Demasiado lindo para tu propio bien."

"What?" Logan asked, impatiently scratching at his nose.

"You're a very handsome boy. You're going to have many pretty niñas chasing after you when you're grown."

Logan smiled widely and Pearla chucked him under the chin. "None of that now. You grow up and find one good one."

"But two is so much better than one," Logan replied cheekily. "And three is much better than two. Four is-"

"One, the right one will be plenty," Pearla stated firmly. "Stop all that instigating. You've got too big a heart to be a lobo. We both know that."

The sound of clicking heels cut off Logan's reply and they both turned to see Lynn enter the kitchen, dressed to impress and not a hair out of place.

"Pearla?"

"Yes Mrs Echolls."

"I've laid out some clothes that need to be taken to the cleaners," Lynn vaguely gestured. "Could you make sure that's taken care of?"

"Yes Mrs Echolls."

"Thank you," Lynn replied before turning her attention to Logan. "How are the new goggles?"

"I haven't tried 'em yet. Pearla was tightening them for me."

"Alright," Lynn answered, looking past Logan to the pool outside. After a moment of silence her gaze fell back on Logan. "Are you sure you don't want to come with me? Maybe we can see if you can be in a scene hmmm?"

"I don't want to be an actor," Logan replied, his lip curling in distaste.

Lynn smiled. "I know, but it could be fun. Maybe after I finish up we could do some shopping, see what new games they have out."

"I want to swim. The pools finally done."

Lynn sighed, resigning herself to the fact that he wouldn't be convinced. "Alight honey, just promise me you'll be good, and just..." she shot a quick glance at Pearla. "Just give your father some space. He's had a stressful week."

"I will," Logan promised quickly, practically bouncing with anticipation to try out the new pool.

"Okay," Lynn gave him a peck on the head. "I'll see you when I get home. Be good."

When Lynn exited Pearla went back to fixing his goggles. "There," she said, popping them unexpectedly over his eyes, earning a laugh. "All set."

"Thanks."

With an exuberance that only a young boy can achieve Logan raced out of the kitchen, briefly stumbling in his haste. Once he reached the pools edge he immediately began to plan his grand entrance. It was a brand new pool so no ordinary flip or belly flop would do. It had to be awesome. For a moment he was completely stymied as to which aerobatic feat to perform, then he saw Trina floating his way on her raft. Her hair was tied back, her expensive lenses on, and she was dry as a bone, Trina did not swim, she tanned. Logan's plan gloriously began to take form. He would start out in a run, the flip over Trina before landing in a cannon ball. It was perfect.

Quickly, Logan made his way back to the patio. He got into his runner's stance, rocking back and forth a bit to get the right footing, then he took off like a shot, racing across the heated ground, his feet loudly pounding with each step. He had just reached the pools edge, ready to jump, when he stumbled. Powerless to stop himself Logan flew forward. Trina noticed him just in time to let out an ear piercing shriek before he landed right on top of her, plunging them both into the pool.

They struggled under the water, both trying to reach the surface. Trina kicked her foot out as she moved, catching Logan in the chest and knocking him further down. Eventually they both reached the surface, clutching the edge of the pool, Logan coughing and sputtering while Trina looked like a drowned rat.

Trina went for the ladder, trembling with anger as she pulled herself from the water. "What the hell is wrong with you?" she demanded.

"It was an accident," Logan defended, brushing water from his face.

"It always is you stupid klutz. You've ruined my hair, broke my sunglasses, and...I could have drowned!" Trina finished in dramatic fashion.

Logan rolled his eyes at her. She always overreacted.

"Daddy!" Trina cried, stomping her foot in anger.

The reminder that his father was there had Logan tensing up.

"Go inside and clean up Trina," Aaron Echolls ordered.

"But he-"

"I'll take care of it Trina. Go ahead and get dried off."

Trina spun on her heels and stomped inside, screaming for Pearla to bring her a towel.

They were alone. Logan hadn't moved from his spot at the edge of the pool. He heard the swish of water as Aaron moved closer. Why was is everything seemed louder at times like this? Logan closed his eyes, his head pressed against the edge of the pool. It was no use though. No matter how much he wished it he couldn't reverse time or make himself disappear. Hopefully it wouldn't be that bad this time, hopefully Aaron wouldn't linger, hopefully he-

"Get over here Logan," Aaron ordered, his voice tight.

Slowly Logan pushed back from the edge, a cold shiver running down his spine.

"You better move faster then that."

Logan sped up his strokes, moving to meet his father in the shallow end of the pool.

"You know," Aaron chuckled, curling a hand around the back of Logan's neck. "You never cease to amaze me."

Logan drew in sharp, rapid breathes. His heart was pounding in his chest and his limbs were tingling with the need to spring into action, to run. He hated the build up. He preferred when Aaron got right to it, a slap to the face, knock his head into the wall, kick him down the stairs. Quick and easy, painful but easy in a way. When it was quick he didn't have time to think, to wonder, to fear. He was conjuring up a million different punishments for his actions and it was all adding to the terror he felt. He just wanted to get it over with.

"You know," Aaron continued. "Any normal person with an ounce of common sense might have considered the ultimate consequences of his actions, but not my son. No, he plows right ahead without a moments thought."

Logan shifted, feeling the water smooth softly over his chest and back.

"So tell me Logan, what on earth possessed you to jump on your sister?"

"I wasn't-"

"I'm sorry," Aaron interrupted, his grip on Logan's neck tightening. "I can't understand you when you mumble. If you have something to say then say it."

Logan cleared his throat. "It was an accident, I was just gonna...flip over her. I tripped but I didn't mean to hurt her. It just...happened."

Aaron sighed. "Things always seem to just happen with you don't they?"

"It was an accident," Logan insisted once more, a slight tremble to his voice. "Trina was just...she's okay."

"Lucky for you she's okay," his grip on Logan's neck turning hard, his fingers digging in, making Logan cringe. "But what if she hadn't been huh? What would you have done?"

"I don't know," Logan answered pitifully.

"Of course you don't, Aaron scoffed. "You're too damn thoughtless. You live from one moment to the next without giving any thought to the people around you."

"I'm sorry."

Aaron ignored him. "Maybe it's time you leaned how your actions affect the people around you. You never were one for learning by listening, so lets see if you can learn through experience."

"Dad, I...she was okay. I-"

"Be quiet Logan," Aaron ordered. "You don't speak unless I say you can, do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Now, let me see if I have this straight. You wanted to do a flip over your sister. Is that right?"

"Yes," Logan replied, trying to stay calm.

Aaron chuckled, sounding anything but amused. "You didn't quit make it did you?"

Logan shook his head.

"Now, your sister was fine, as you repeatedly pointed out, but lets say she wasn't okay," Aaron's voice took on a hard edge. "Lets say my bright son managed to hurt his sister. What do you imagine would have happened?"

Logan took a shuttering breath. "I don't know."

Aaron gave him a shake. "Well why don't you use that imagination of yours and come up with something."

Logan nervously liked his lips. "Um, she uh, she would have been under the water."

"Under the water? You're probably right. She would have been under the water, in too much pain to get herself out. Under the water and powerless to save herself, like this perhaps."

Without warning Aaron suddenly plunged Logan beneath the cool water. Caught by surprise, Logan didn't have time to take a breath before he went under. Seconds after he was emerged he felt that old familiar tightening in his chest, letting him know he needed air. Logan struggled but could do nothing against his father's iron grip. Moments later Aaron pulled him back up. Logan took a few deep breaths, rubbing at his eyes, trying to ease the stinging from the chlorine water that had gotten in his eyes before he could close them.

"What else?" Aaron calmly asked.

Logan shook his head rapidly, a cold chill sliding down his spine. He knew where this was going now and it scared the hell out of him.

Aaron gripped Logan's neck hard, causing him to cry out. "Answer the question!" he barked.

"She..she would have been under the water," Logan continued slowly.

"You said that already."

"Trina...Trina wouldn't have been...she'd.."

"She would what Logan?" Aaron asked impatiently.

Logan took a deep breath. This was going to happen wether he wanted it to or not, no matter how long he stalled. In fact there was a real chance it'd be worse if he stalled but god he didn't want to do this, he didn't want to be here.

"She wouldn't have been able to reach the surface," Logan stated reluctantly.

"And?"

Tears of fear and stress began to well in his eyes. He feared what came next. Trina wouldn't have been able to breath. He wasn't going to be able to breath. "Please, I'm sorry. I won't do it again. I won't-"

"Shut up," Aaron snapped. "I don't care that you're sorry. It doesn't change anything. You need to be taught a lesson. You need to learn what is and isn't acceptable behavior. And you will learn Logan," Aaron promised. "Even if I have to beat it into you. Now, tell me, what would have happened if Trina hand't been able to reach the surface."

He wasn't going to escape this. It was going to happen. His dad always won in the end. Logan opened his mouth and tremblingly admitted the truth. "She wouldn't have been able to breath."

Without a word Aaron plunged Logan back beneath the rippling water. Ten seconds past, then twenty, thirty, forty. Logan began to squirm against his father's strong grip, panic overwhelming his mind. He'd been practicing holding his breath for long amounst of time. He wanted to have surfing lessons, and if he ever fell off his board he wanted to know he could hold his breath long enough to fight his way above the waves, but the most he'd been able to go was a minute and a half, and even that had been a struggle.

Logan felt the smooth rush of water over him as his father jerked him back up. Once he was firmly back on his feet he began to greedily suck in deep breaths, his panic easing with each breath he took.

"Terrifying isn't it?" Aaron asked, eerily calm. "Not being able to breath and knowing there isn't a damn thing you can do about it."

"I won't do it again," Logan promised desperately.

"hmmm, you think you've learned your lesson?"

"Yes," Logan cried.

"I'm not so sure. They sound like desperate words from a desperate boy, hollow and meaningless."

"No," Logan whispered, tears filling his eyes. "No. No. No."

"No, you haven't learned your lesson, but you will," Aaron promised.

Once more Logan disappeared below the blue tinted water. Aaron forced him down and before Logan knew it his back was scraping the bottom of the pool, Aaron's foot on his chest. Logan's hands immediately went to Aaron's ankles, desperately pushing at him, but he may as well have been pushing a 2 ton truck for all the good he was doing. Eventually he stilled, hoping that would make Aaron release his hold, but no such luck. Logan felt that old familiar panic creeping through him as the pressure in his chest from a lack of oxygen turned into burning that rolled through his chest. His limbs tingled with a desire to move, to seek out air. Logan stared up at his father through the shimmering water, as the seconds slowly ticked by he began to fear that his father would go too far.

One minute and ten seconds in Logan knew he couldn't last any longer. He had just started to breath in when Aaron lifted his foot. Logan scrambled up, quickly shooting to the surface, alternately coughing and drawing deep breaths. He barely noticed as Aaron lifted him forcing him out of the pool, scraping his stomach against the pool's rough edge. Moving to his hands and knees Logan continued to cough deep in his chest. His coughing soon turned to gagging and before he could stop himself he was retching, the combination of pool water and stomach acid burning his throat.

Aaron climbed out after him. "I think you've learned your lesson. When your finished get the hose and clean that mess up, and don't come inside until your dry, we just got that carpet and we don't need you dripping water all over the place."

Aaron moved past him, going inside. The Patio door slide silently closed. Logan was left alone on the ground, shivering and coughing. God he just wanted it to stop. It had to stop. He could be better, he could be good, stay out of his father's way. He would do whatever he had to do.

He just wanted it to stop.

Stop!

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

**Title:** History of Abuse  
_**Author: **__Alliegirl  
__**Characters:**__ Logan, Veronica, Aaron, and Lynn  
__**Rating:**__ R  
__**Spoilers:**__ All seasons  
__**Summary: **_"Logan," she whispered in a comforting tone he hadn't heard in years, hadn't heard from her ever. "How did you get this scar?"  
_**Warning:**__ This story will include rather descriptive child abuse. If you can't handle it I suggest you don't read past the first chapter._  
_**Disclaimer:**__ Still not mine but oh how wish…_

_A/N: Thanks to hokeysmoke (on LJ) for the beta work. Any remaining mistakes are my own fault. –Sorry for the long wait everyone. And from now on check my profile page for updates on my fics_

"Stop!"

Veronica exclaimed, interrupting Logan mid sentence as she threw back the covers and rushed to the bathroom, ignoring his call for her to wait.

Once inside she shut the door firmly behind her. She took a few deep breaths in hopes of calming herself. Her hands were shaking and she could feel the burn of tears behind her eyes. God, she wanted to rage, wanted to break something, hit someone, and scream at the top of her lungs. Most of all she wanted to cry.

Logan had been going through that hell the entire time she'd known him –longer than she'd known him- she'd been so oblivious, so wrapped up in Duncan, Lilly, and hundreds of little things that should not have been more important than her friend. Why hadn't she noticed? Why hadn't she seen the signs? How could she have been so self-involved?

She thought back to that time before their world had fallen apart. Try as she might she couldn't think of a single moment that stood out, a time he'd flinched at her touch, told a story that didn't quite add up, a time he hadn't managed to hide the pain behind his smile, his class clown facade. Veronica hated that she'd been that blind, that everyone had been that blind. Seventeen years. Logan had been with Aaron seventeen years, and all that time no one had noticed what was happening to him, or had noticed but done nothing about it.

Aaron had gotten off easy. He hadn't had to feel the terror that comes with knowing your life is about to end. He hadn't had to look into his murderer's eyes and know there wasn't a damn thing he could do to save himself. Aaron hadn't had to beg and plead for mercy only to be ignored or mocked. Worst of all he was remembered exactly the way he would have wanted. He was remembered as a talented actor, generous human being, loving father and husband, another Hollywood star taken before his time. It made her sick.

A tentative knock at the door pulled Veronica from her angry musing. Quickly pushing herself off the door, she moved towards the sink, holding on to the counter with a knuckle-whitening grip.

"Veronica," Logan called, softly. "Veronica, can I come in?"

She had to cringe at the uncertainty in his voice. She shouldn't have run out of the room. He'd been letting her in, sharing painful memories, memories she'd asked him to share, and she'd abandoned him. Sometimes it was hard to curb her automatic flight response to emotional stress.

"Veronica?"

"Yes…I…" she sighed, "Come in."

Logan slid the door open and moved towards Veronica, taking up a position behind her, resting his hands on either side of hers.

"Hi," she greeted lamely, giving a small wave to his reflection.

"Hi," Logan replied.

His face remained neutral, showing no signs of hurt or anger but she still found it hard to look him in the eye. Instead she let her gaze drift to his hands. Two years ago when she'd haltingly told him about being with Duncan the night of Shelly Pomeroy's party he hadn't judged or looked disgusted, he hadn't run away. Logan had just held her hand and told her he'd be there for her no matter what.

And after the fall out with Beaver, when she'd sobbed the whole story to him he'd held her close, soothingly rubbing her back. He couldn't have fixed anything that had happened, but she'd known she wouldn't be alone.

Slowly, Veronica linked their hands. "I'm sorry I ran. It was just…a lot to take in."

"It wasn't always that bad," Logan said. "I wasn't always such a…I learned to take it."

Veronica stared for a moment in disbelief before responding, her voice tight with anger. "You shouldn't have had to learn to take it."

Logan sighed, giving a brief nod. She couldn't tell if he was agreeing or was merely placating her.

"Logan," Veronica asked, softening her tone. "Can I ask…why didn't you ever tell me what he was doing? I would have helped you."

Logan gave a weak smile, reaching up to lightly tug on her hair. "My very own pig-tailed crusader for justice."

"Logan."

"Come on Veronica," Logan said, rolling his eyes. "You saw what happened when your dad went after Jake Kane & when my…Aaron was arrested. What do you think would have happened?"

"So you were protecting me?"

"Yes, you and everyone else I cared about."

"Do you know how that makes me feel? God, my dad was the Sheriff. He would have done everything in his power to make things right."

"He would have lost everything," Logan snapped. "And he wouldn't have been the first. I couldn't let that happen to someone, not again."

They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence that lasted for a few moments.

"Look," Logan said, finally breaking the silence. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. We should just do something else."

"No," Veronica stated firmly. "I don't want to ignore it. I don't want to not talk about everything that happened to you…to me. Can we just push through the awkwardness?"

There was a long pause. Logan studied her with an assessing gaze before breaking eye contact and laying a kiss on her shoulder.

"What is this?" Logan asked jokingly. "Veronica Mars is pushing for healthy communication?"

Veronica rolled her eyes. "I thought we'd try something new."

"Yeah, still, maybe we should take a break."

Veronica nodded in agreement.

"Are you hungry?"

"No, not really," Veronica responded. "Maybe we could get something to snack on, ice cream, fries, or something."

"I'll make the call," Logan said, slipping out of the bathroom.

Veronica stared after him. Logan had a tendency not to tell her when she'd hurt him, brushing it off as unimportant. She only hoped she hadn't managed to do any damage, to break his trust, or cause him to hold back.

8888888

Veronica lingered in the bathroom for a few minutes longer, before making her way through the bedroom, coming to rest in the doorway. She watched as Logan finished his call to room service. He stood still for a few moments before releasing an audible sigh and beginning to straighten the room, picking up any articles of clothing that had been carelessly thrown aside, straightening the shoes they'd kicked off earlier in the night, lifting her bag and placing it on the couch.

She recognized Logan's tidying of the room for what it was, a clear sign of avoidance. Logan Echolls did not clean. It was going to take more than an apology to make up for her bathroom episode.

"After Lilly died my parents fought a lot. My mother drank more than ever," Veronica said, stepping further into the room. Logan froze, but didn't turn to face her.

"Sometimes she didn't get home till early in the morning, other times she didn't come home at all. One night my dad was working late and my mom was out. I heard a noise at the door, I thought maybe someone decided to egg the house again, or get creative with spray paint."

"Jesus," Logan turned to face her.

She could see the guilt etched on his face but she couldn't stop to ease it. If she didn't get the story out that moment she was sure she ever would.

"My mom was at the door. She was too blitzed to remember what a key was let alone how to use one," Veronica continued, disgust creeping into her tone. "Anyway, after I helped her up and got her inside I started helping her to her room. She stumbled in the hallway and we both went down, hard. I had been biting my lip at the time, so when we fell…I bit through my lip. It hurt like hell, bled like you wouldn't believe. She didn't even notice, too busy passing out."

Logan had been moving slowly towards her as she told her story. She paused when he reached her, standing still as he lifted his hand, gently running his thumb along her lower lip.

"I'd wondered how you got that. I just thought, maybe when you were little…"

Veronica shook her heard. "No."

"What else?" Logan pushed, watching her blink back her tears.

"I left her on the floor, went into the bathroom and cleaned up," she paused briefly, rolling her eyes. "I cried for half an hour."

"Veronica."

"My dad was working long hours, my mother was drunk or hung over all the time, I missed Lilly, Duncan…and I missed you. I just wanted my life back."

"I'm sorry, Veronica. I wish I could…"

"Stop apologizing. I forgave you a long time ago."

"Doesn't make me feel any less guilty," Logan responded.

Veronica shrugged. "Doesn't mean you're any less forgiven."

They lapsed into silence; neither was sure what to say next.

"I'm gonna get some air," Veronica eventually said, gesturing to the balcony.

"Right," Logan said, taking a step back.

"No, I didn't mean…you can come with."

Together, they stepped out onto the balcony. Veronica stood silently, taking in the view. She could feel Logan's gaze on her but didn't turn to meet it. After telling her story she was feeling, not bad, but a bit exposed.

"Do you miss her?"

Veronica shrugged. "She made her choice."

"Missing her doesn't make you weak Veronica. It doesn't mean she was right."

"I don't miss her. I won't." Veronica took a deep breath. "But, I miss having a mother."

Logan moved forward, wrapping his arms around her, and she melted into his embrace.

"Thank you," Logan whispered into her hair.

88888

A little over an hour later Logan and Veronica found themselves cuddled together on the couch, room service having come and gone. Despite her claim that she hadn't been hungry Veronica had still managed to devour all her fries and half of Logan's, much to his amusement.

They had comfortably resumed their previous game of twenty questions. Logan didn't seem to be in a hurry to resume their prior conversation and Veronica was fine letting him set the pace. She didn't want to make him feel obligated to share more.

"Hmmm," Logan exaggeratedly rubbed his chin, pretending to ponder his next question. "Favorite sexual position?"

"Oh God," Veronica laughed then paused. "You're serious?"

Logan wiggled his eyebrows, smirk firmly in place.

"What is yours?" Veronica shot back.

Logan smiled. "Maybe when it's your turn you can use your question to find out?"

Veronica thought for a moment.

"I like being on top."

"Really?" Logan asked, intrigued. "Why?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. We have a one question per turn limit."

Logan chuckled at her tone and gestured for Veronica to take her turn.

Veronica thought for a moment, absentmindedly tracing patterns on Logan's bare stomach.

"Tell me a secret," she finally demanded. "And make it a good one."

"If you keep doing that thing with your hand I won't be held responsible for my actions."

"That's not a secret," Veronica smiled.

"I had a crush on you when I first moved here."

"I know. You thought I was hot…and something about knee socks."

"I'm serious," Logan responded.

"Really?" Veronica asked, propping herself up so she could meet his gaze.

"Yeah."

"What about Lilly?"

"Lilly," Logan gave a sad smile. "Lilly was Lilly."

Veronica knew what he meant. Even at thirteen Lilly had been hell on wheels, wild, impulsive, frustrating at times but always impossible to ignore.

"So," Veronica said, settling back down, her head on Logan's shoulder. "Logan Echolls had a crush on me."

"I wanted to ask you out," Logan further revealed.

"Why didn't you?"

"Duncan. I was new in town, didn't have any friends. I couldn't afford to step on any toes."

Veronica thought back to that time in their lives, back when they'd been four unstoppable kids. She had thought Duncan was cute with all his stuttering attempts to speak with her but she honestly hadn't been considering him one way or the other.

She remembered Lilly & Duncan dragging Logan over to her one day after soccer practice. He hadn't been as cute as Duncan, what with his gangly limbs, ears too big for his head, and the light sprinkling of acne that graced his forehead, but she'd found his attempts to be cool as charming as they had been amusing.

Veronica smiled. "I would have said yes."

They lapsed into silence for a few minutes before Veronica nudged his side, reminding Logan that it was his turn.

"Did you ever tell your dad about that night with your mom?" Logan asked quietly.

"No," she answered, shaking her head. "I told him I tripped when I was walking Backup. He had enough to deal with and I...things were tense enough as it was. I didn't want to give them another reason to fight."

Logan hugged her closer. "Your turn."

Taking her cue from Logan, Veronica lightly tapped a spot slightly below his hipbone. "You have a scar here."

"It was after Lilly died. I was...messed up. Aaron dragged my mom and me to dinner with a director he wanted to work with. I knew the guy's step daughter and she and I...we ended up...fooling around. Needless to say, no one was amused when we were caught."

Veronica cringed. Imagining her father catching her like that was scary enough.

"What did he do?" she asked softly.

888888

Logan sat slouched down in the back seat of his father's new Jag. Since leaving Richard Jacob's house a tense silence had settled in the car. From his vantage point he could see the knuckle-whitening grip his father had on the steering wheel as well as the anxious glances his mother kept throwing his father.

Aaron was going to blow, it was only a matter of time, but Logan was finding it hard to care. Lilly was dead, Duncan was practically comatose, and Veronica had turned her back on them. There wasn't anything Aaron could do to make things worse than they already were.

They continued for a few more minutes before Aaron broke the silence, his voice tight with anger. "I have to say, you've pulled a lot of dumb stunts in your life but this one tops them all."

"Aaron," Lynn said softly.

"Stay out of this Lynn," Aaron snapped, angling his mirror so he could see Logan. "What have you got to say?"

Logan didn't respond, choosing instead to gaze out the window and watch the endless line of trees fly by.

"You've got nothing to say?" Aaron barked. "You just cost me a job because you were chasing some cheap piece of ass."

Logan snorted. "The world weeps."

Aaron slammed on the brakes and Logan had to catch himself on his mother's seat so he wouldn't end up scrunched on the floor. Definitely should have worn a seat belt.

"Please wait," Lynn pleaded as Aaron undid his seat belt with a sharp jerk. "He's been having a hard time lately and-" Aaron cut her off with a slam of his door.

Logan followed his father's progress around the car. He'd been expecting this, what with the getting caught with his hand down Emily's pants and the mouthing off but he still couldn't help the pounding of his heart. When Aaron finally reached Logan's door he yanked it open and grabbed the collar of Logan's shirt, pulling him from the car.

Lynn climbed out after them, reaching for Aaron's arm. "Aaron, we're in public. Please, he's just a little…confused right now."

"Get in the car." Aaron pulled his arm from her grasp, causing her to stumble.

Logan took a step forward, prepared to intervene but Aaron shoved him back, slamming him against the side of the car, before once more ordering Lynn to get back in the car.

Once he was certain Lynn had followed his order Aaron turned his attention back to Logan. "I don't know who the hell you think you are. I've been letting a lot of things slide since your girlfriend passed but in light of what has happened tonight it's clear I've been too lenient. This attitude of yours is done. Do you understand me?"

Logan just stared, his heart was pounding wildly but he refused to give Aaron the satisfaction of knowing how nervous he was.

Aaron smacked him upside his head. "I asked you a question."

Despite the sharp throbbing of his head, Logan again remained silent.

"You're going to learn respect. There isn't a damn thing you have that my money didn't pay for and you're going to cost me work and then have the nerve to stand there like it's nothing," Aaron's eyes blazed. "You think you could make it without my money and all it provides? You couldn't manage on your own for a week. There isn't a self-sufficient bone in your body. You're not bred for anything but draining people's time, patience, and hard earned money."

Logan rolled his eyes and looking away. Before he could register what was happening, Aaron was reaching into his coat pocket and grabbing his cell phone and then digging his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans.

"You think you could make it on your own?" Aaron threw Logan's belongings into the car. "Go."

Logan stood still, unsure what to do. He'd expected something else, maybe a couple more smacks upside the head, or maybe one to his nose, possibly even a whipping if Aaron was angry enough to take the chance of a car passing by.

"Go," Aaron barked as he gave Logan a shove, causing him to stumble back. "Let's see how far your smart-ass attitude takes you."

Logan threw a nervous glance at his mother, he wasn't sure where this was going, how far Aaron would take it. Once more he stumbled back when Aaron gave him a shove, this time his foot slipped and before he could stop himself he slid down the embankment, his hip slamming into something sharp as he went. The impact sent sparks of pain shooting through his body.

When he reached the bottom he sat up, pressing his forearm against his wound. For a moment all he could focus on was the throbbing pain. After a while he became aware of his mother yelling his name, demanding he answer her.

For the first time in a long time he allowed himself to hate her. Judging by her panicked cries she didn't think the idea of Aaron going too far was beyond the realm of possibility. He hated that she wouldn't just take him and get them both away from it all.

Allowing his anger to get the better of him, Logan laid back; listening as his mother's panicked cries filled the night air. He loved her for being the only one to care but he hated her for not caring enough.


End file.
